Broken Dancing Machine
by AstroPhantom
Summary: After the near-guarantee of being tree wood for eternity, Dipper gets caught up in the party atmosphere and has a question for a very specific person...Continues off of the events of "Northwest Mansion Noir."


**Broken Dancing Machine**

* * *

 _"Hey. Guess what we're standing on."_

Dipper followed Pacifica's eyes as she gazed down to her feet. Her parents' favorite silver-white plush carpet was caked in a handful of thick, muddy shoe-prints. Smiling victoriously, she raised her left foot and stomped down, splattering more mud onto the rug. The two of them laughed freely as they knocked over drinks and punch bowls, making an even bigger mess.

"But seriously, I'd better go find somebody to clean this up. I'll be right back, okay?""

Dipper nodded and watched her walk off in the direction of the stairs, before turning around to find Old Man McGucket rattling off a chain of his unique, peculiar brand of speech. At some point, Dipper found himself being pulled into a side hallway and warned of imminent doom, but after the night he had just gone through, all he wanted to do was relax and have a good time.

Walking back into the Northwests' party, he started to bob his head to the music as he made his way through the crowd, saying hello to people he recognized and mingling with Mabel for a few minutes. He ended up next to the fondue fountains when he finally saw a now-familiar head of blonde hair making its way toward him.

"Hey! What'd I miss?" Pacifica asked as she came to a standstill. Her shoes were noticeably clean and free of mud now.

Dipper looked at his own shoes and found that most of the mud had already been wiped away onto the floor, save for a few bits of dried dirt on the heels. "Not much. Although the cider fountain seems to be really popular."

"Well yeah. That cider was made from fresh apples just this week! Should be good stuff." Pacifica nodded approvingly at the party crowd.

Before he could reply, the strong bass of the music blaring in the background gave way to the smooth tones of a slower song. He didn't know if it was because of the party atmosphere or the fact that she had saved his–everyone's–life tonight, but Dipper couldn't help but peek meekly to his left at Pacifica. He immediately jerked his head down when he saw that she was also looking at him, the barest hints of a blush betraying his face.

Pacifica was the first to break the silence that had started between them. "I-I really like this song. One of my favorites."

"Hehe, yeah." Dipper kicked at the ground, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets. His borrowed collar seemed to be impossibly tighter around his neck, almost in an attempt to prevent him from what he was about to do. "Uh…hey, Pacifica, you wouldn't, by any chance, uh, want to dance…with me?" He practically whispered the last part.

Pacifica couldn't help but grin. Despite their past history and the fact that not too many people were actually dancing, she found herself saying yes. She laughed and pulled his hand toward the other dancers.

The two of them stood still for a few moments, giving each other reassuring smiles, before she slowly brought her hands up to his shoulders and took a timid step towards him. Dipper followed suite, looking to his own hands as if to check they knew what they were doing as he finally rested them gently on her hips.

As they started to rhythmically sway to the music, it became obvious very quickly that there was an imbalance in their dancing skills. Pacifica, with her family's wealth, had gone to many dancing teachers throughout the years, and had become proficient in over five different styles, all out of her parents' insistence that they were necessary to know for events and parties such as this. She would have never have guessed though that she would be dancing with _Dipper_ , of all people.

Dipper himself was not as nimble-footed as Pacifica, however. He had never really danced before to begin with, but his skills, or lack thereof, left even the most basic coordination to be desired. Every few seconds he offered either a mumbled "sorry" or an apologetic smile as he stumbled over his own feet and onto hers.

Despite all this, Pacifica couldn't stop herself from admitting that she was having actual, genuine fun for once. Dipper had helped her to see that she wasn't destined to be like her arrogantly rich parents, and maybe it was the cider and chocolate fondue talking, but he seemed friendly and…cute, in an adorably dorky kind of way. She offered a nervous laugh, holding back from involuntary wincing as he stepped on her toes yet again.

"I-I'm sorry," Dipper sputtered out. "I've never really danced with anyone before."

"That's alright. As they say, practice makes perfect." Pacifica hoped he picked up on the subtext. Slow or not, she liked dancing with him.

"Yeah. But man, I am so glad I didn't try this with Wendy at my uncle's party. It's harder than it looks!" Dipper shook his head, laughing as if he had an inside joke with himself.

"Wait…Wendy?" Pacifica wracked her brain. She remembered that night, when she had won the Party Crown. But now that she thought about it, she remembered seeing Dipper with that tall redhead he worked with, and how he always looked flustered around her…

"Uh, Pacifica? Are you okay?"

Pacifica snapped out of her daze to see their feet standing still against expensive hardwood flooring, not realizing they had stopped dancing. She looked up at him to see concern and a hint of confusion lining his features. Absentmindedly she took in the fact that his tie was still undone, hanging down between his jacket lapels. God, why did he have to look good, even like that? And why was she even having these thoughts about him? Not four hours ago she was embarrassed to even have him in her home.

Still, the mention of Wendy had surprisingly stung, bringing her back to the reality that he at most only saw her as a friend, and that he was probably caught up in the party when he had asked her to dance. "I…I'm sorry, Dipper. I can't do this." She stepped back away from him and started to run to an obscure area of the mansion.

"Pacifica, wait! We don't have to dance!" Dipper's words barely reached her as she disappeared behind a corner. His dancing couldn't have been _that_ bad. He raced after her, but as he went around the wall, he was halted by a seemingly endless hallway of doors, and no Pacifica to be seen.

As he stood there, Dipper tried to figure out what had upset her, but to no avail. Whatever it was though, the crestfallen look on her face had dampened his spirits, making his heart fall and leaving him reaching out longingly into the empty air.

* * *

 _So I kinda extended the ending of "Northwest Mansion Noir." I was asked for Dipper and Pacifica dancing, and this just so happened to be my first Gravity Falls fic as well (but there will be more)._

 _But yeah, I'm sorry for this. I think I got lost when I veered from my usual Danny Phantom._


End file.
